


I want your midnights

by cromarty



Series: The Resolution [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Year's Resolutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-05 22:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20496416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cromarty/pseuds/cromarty
Summary: For the prompt “On New Year’s Eve, David and Patrick discuss New Year’s resolutions - past and present.”





	I want your midnights

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Taylor Swift’s [“New Year’s Day.”](https://youtu.be/KkvTYrFIxNM)

“I never really made them,” David says as he scrubs at the kitchen sink with a toothbrush to get at the grime that collects around the drain no matter how careful he is when they do the dishes. “I… there were things I wanted to change, but there wasn’t really anything that I felt like I could really do about them.” 

Patrick hums where he’s sitting at the desk making sure they have no outstanding bills. “I made lots of them. I hadn’t broken one in years, but it was kind of the same thing. I made [SMART](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SMART_criteria) resolutions like running a half marathon or reducing my grocery budget.” He stands up to wander over to the kitchen and watch David’s brushing. “I always wished next year would be different, but it was just this feeling, I couldn’t turn it into any kind of plan that made any difference.” 

David looks up from the sink at the tone of his voice, and then strips off his dish gloves and goes to him. With his arms around Patrick’s neck, he says, “Is that what the seven superstitions are about? Trying to make a change without an action plan?” He keeps his tone light, but he had been wondering. Patrick had explained them as inherited rituals from his McPhee grandparents, but his insistence on doing them had surprised David a little. Particularly the one about putting silver coins out to absorb the light of the old and new years’ moons, which had required them to go up out onto the roof in the snow to scatter a small pile of dimes and quarters, supposedly so that they would have a prosperous year. 

Patrick smiles at him. “It’s about beginning as you mean to go on, David. The house will be clean, the bills will be paid, our wallets will have money in them, we did the laundry yesterday so that we won’t wash away any loved ones by doing it tomorrow, and we’ll light the candles on the fireplace to bridge the light of the old and new years. And you’re going to be my first footer, because you’re the handsomest tall, dark-haired man I know.” 

He kisses David, and then pulls away to pick up their _Ella Wishes You a Swinging Christmas_ record, which has been on heavy rotation since Thanksgiving. As “[What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?](https://youtu.be/LQfZTPKzRZ0)” fills the room, he comes back to David’s arms and pulls him close. 

David kisses his temple and can’t resist pushing a bit. “I understand all that, I guess, but did you really have to make me go out into the snow just for a superstition?” 

Patrick laughs, and looks up at him with David’s favorite look, so fond it shines out of his face. “It’s magic, David, don’t you believe in magic?” 

David tries to laugh too, but he can feel himself getting a bit misty. Two years ago, he hadn’t met Patrick yet, and he and Stevie had gotten very drunk in an empty motel room and all he remembers thinking as the clock struck midnight was _This year is going to be different, I’m going to be different. How can it get worse? It has to get better._ Last year, Ray had been in Winnipeg and they’d had the house to themselves, and they had done this, dancing in the living room with the fireworks on the TV on mute, and Patrick had given him the first real New Year’s kiss he’d ever had, and he’d quietly resolved to not fuck things up this time. And so far, he somehow hadn’t.

Patrick is still dancing with him in socked feet on New Year’s Eve, and just beaming up at him, and later tonight their friends will come over for drinks, and they’ll have to help Ted get Alexis and Stevie down the stairs when they inevitably have too much, and he’ll go all the way out into the snow again to make sure the magic works before coming back up to the apartment to be the first person across the threshold and help his fiancé clean up after the party, and then they’ll go to bed (after beginning as they mean to go on in a sexy way), and then tomorrow they will wake up to a fresh year and spend the day doing a little of each of the things they want the next year to hold, and Patrick will play for him while he gets in some reflective journaling, and it will be perfect. 

“David?” Patrick looks a little confused, because David’s tears have started to spill over a bit. 

“Yes,” he gasps, and laughs a little. “Yes, honey, I do believe in magic.” Patrick smiles again and kisses him sweet and slow. 

“David, I’ve thought of the perfect resolution,” he whispers when he finally pulls back. “I’m going to kiss you every single day for the next 365 days.” 

David breathes out another little laugh and kisses each of Patrick’s cheeks and then his mouth. “It’s probably a good thing I increased the store’s lip balm order last week, then,” he says, and pulls Patrick in closer.

“Just think,” Patrick whispers into his neck. “Next year, after I’ve kissed you at least 366 more times, I’ll be making resolutions with my _husband_.” David squeezes him a little tighter as he feels Patrick kiss his favorite spot on David’s neck. Husbands. Married. This time next year they’ll have been married for almost six months. _Magical, for sure._

The moment is broken by the jazzy brass of “Sleigh Ride,” and Patrick kisses him again before going over to change out the record to _Ella Fitzgerald Sings the Cole Porter Song Book_. David goes back to the kitchen to finish his cleaning, but as he picks up his dish gloves again, he watches Patrick settle back down at the desk. “Patrick, what do you want?” he asks. “You said you’d kiss me every day, but what can I do for you?”

Patrick shakes his head fondly. “Baby, kissing you every day isn’t something I’d do for you, it’s something I’d get to do for me.” He opens his arms, and David goes to sit in his lap in the creaky thrifted desk chair. “Just love me, David. That will make this the best year of my life.” 

“Okay,” David whispers, stroking Patrick’s hair. “Done. Easiest resolution I’ll ever make.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the people who are intrigued by Patrick's inherited traditions, I learned them from Stephanie Pearl-McPhee but forgot to link to her! [Here](http://www.yarnharlot.ca/2019/01/facing-forward/) is a good description in her own words, which you'll see I basically plagiarized. I love her family and their ability to imbue the world with a loving magic, so I tried to pay tribute to them here.
> 
> Edited to add (9/20/20): I don't love doing this but I am possibly not going to make rent this month so if you'd like to "buy me a coffee" you can do so [here](https://ko-fi.com/cromarty). Obviously no pressure.


End file.
